You Used to Watch His Back
by Ori
Summary: Silence speaks better than words. If you speak, you would be ignored. If he speaks, he would be unforgiving. This is an unspoken law, it was true back then, and it is true now when we meet again.
1. Part One

A note to all confused souls - Sakura is the narrator, and she is talking about herself (no, inner Sakura does not exist in this story).

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Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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**You Used to Watch His Back**

Part One

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Silence speaks better than words. That is the way it has always been between you and he. If you speak, you would be ignored; if he speaks, he would be unforgiving. Ever since Naruto left, the battle proceeded in complete silence. 

Silence, except for the pouring rain.

Silence, except for heavy breaths that escape your lips.

Neither of you says anything. He stands with his hands in the snake seal, it is probably the second last seal to his jutsu. You know from the order of the seals he used that this will be an offensive attack. His first offensive attack against you today. Before this, for reasons beyond your grasp, he had only defended. Will this be his strongest jutsu, something created to kill? Did he suddenly find you worthy to attack? Or did he wanted to end this battle because he was losing his patience? Or was it because he, like you, was getting tired of fighting?

Probably, possibly, perhaps.

Opposite to him, you stand with a ball of deadly chakra between your palms, ready at your command. You are at your limits, but you know he must be close to his too. In the last exchange he tripped once. Only fatigue can cease his impeccable agility. The tension is neck breaking. It is the end. One movement in your surrounding is all it takes to send you into action. One of you will fall when the tension breaks, and it will probably be you. But in the mean time…

In the mean time, time moves at a painfully slow speed. You find yourself staring into his eyes, his red eyes, his cursed eyes. There you can see your bloody twins, one in each of his orb. They stare back at you, almost mesmerizing. You feel sleepy. You wonder if that is induced by his Sharingans. It may be. His eyes have three tear drops now, like Kakashi's, one more drop than when you last saw them three years ago.

It can be mere exhaustion. That is a possibility. The fight is long. Girls have lower chakra capacity than boys, Tsunade told you once. The human body shuts down before complete chakra drain; it is a self defence mechanism.

A stoic smile plays on your lips. Either way, you cannot afford to fall. You must stay awake.

Awake. What an absurd, ridiculous state. None of what happened in the past few hours seemed any more real than your reoccurring dreams. Yes, you have been dreaming about him. Every night you meet him in a different scenario, a new setting, a new situation, but death always awaits in the end.

In some nights you would see him lying on the ground, life juice slowly flowing out of his pierced chest. In other nights you would see him standing above you, watching you with his emotionless red eyes while your vision dimmed.

What makes this any different?

But of course this is different. If you fall in _this_ dream, you will not find yourself in your cold bed the next morning. That is why you must keep your mind active. Keep thinking. But don't think about your aching legs, your weary arms, or sore neck. It is tempting to lie down and sleep forever, but of course you will not dwell on that.

So what can you think about? The future is too treacherous a road for you to imagine. You do not want to think, you are too scared to think, about what may happen in the next second, or minute, or hour. The consequences to actions you may or may not take give too many uncertainties. You always have a fear for uncertainties.

'_All thoughts can be categorized into three groups: the past, the present, and the future,'_ according to a book you read when you were a child during one of your daily library sessions.

So, really, you only have one choice.

This morning you came with Naruto, Tsunade-sama and Jiraiya to find Sasuke engaged in battle with Orochimaru. You left Leaf with a much larger party, but one by one, members were left behind to fight off pestering enemies.

One of them was Kakashi-sensei.

Another was Hinata.

It was her scream that echoed through the air.

You saw the anxiety on Naruto's face when he heard the familiar scream, the way his blue eyes darted left and right as an inner battle raged on in his mind. Duty told him he must stay to fight Sasuke with you, but his heart told him to leave and fight the vile fiend that had harmed that girl. His inability to concentrate cost him a punch, then a kick and then another kick from Sasuke. When you barely managed to push him away from a second punch, you knew keeping Naruto here was completely pointless.

"Go to her, Naruto," you commanded, you healed his wounds while dragging him a fair distance away from Sasuke.

"I can't. I can't break my promise."

Naruto: so kind and understanding but still an idiot.

"She needs you more, damn it! You will never forgive yourself if she ends up hurt because you do not go to her now!"

"But—"

"Just go! I will take care of Sasuke." When he did not look too convince you added, "You are welcome to come back and finish him off after you save her ass, Naruto."

That took enough guilt off his shoulder for him to agree. You shooed him away. He nodded, giving you one last reluctant look he disappeared into the forest.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

"_The Hyuuga Heiress? I thought he would never figure that out." _

His voice startled you. You cursed yourself for not noticing his presence as you instinctively jumped back a few steps. When you frantically turned to face him, you found him with his trait-marked smirk on his face, exceedingly amused. It was then you realized he was standing in the shadow for a long time.

"Why didn't you attack?" you asked through gritted teeth, kunais in hands.

"My fight is not with you," he replied simply. Once again there was that arrogant, mocking smirk. As he stood casually with crossed arms, his eyes turned black.

You glowered. "You better make it to be. If you don't, you will die." You answered in as dangerous a voice as you could manage.

"No."

The decisiveness of his reply took you by surprise. For a moment you stared, taken aback.

Then, the words sank in. Anger surged.

"Don't look down at me because I am a girl!" you yelled although you knew, without knowing the actual reason, that being a girl had nothing to do with his actions. Your words were a defence mechanism, a distraction, something to keep you from pondering on his reasons, something to suppress any dangerous hope that you naturally possess.

You lashed out without a second thought. Your fist connected to his unsuspecting chest, he flew across the field.

For the first time in history, Sasuke Uchiha was dumbfounded by your action. _You_, Sakura! You felt strange pride coursed through your veins. You watched with morbid satisfaction as Sasuke pushed himself up off the ground. With the same slowness, he wiped away the trickle of blood that had leaked out of his pale lips with the back of his hand. His dark haired obscured his eyes the whole time. "You trained."

"Everyday for the last three years."

"Ah." He smiled, you thought it looked sad. Or regretful. Or both. But that was impossible.

"I am a Jounin now, like Naruto."

He did not reply, but you knew he finally understood, perhaps not completely, but at least enough. When you finally saw his eyes again,they were red.

You attacked.

He defended.

"He is even more handsome than he was before, isn't he?" Tsunade mumbled into your ear the moment she was sure you had a good look at him. She was right of course, but you kept your face inscrutable and refused to answer. It was her last effort to convince you to stay behind, you knew.

She thought you were too emotionally attached to him for this mission. _"And Naruto is not?"_ you retorted when she expressed her concern. _"Naruto is better at controlling his emotion,"_ she replied as if that was the most obviousfact in the world. How could she possibly consider depriving you of the sole purpose for your life in the last three years? You almost snapped, but you held back. Instead, you looked at her evenly. _"I am going,"_ you said, _"I will not be left behind again."_

The next day she signed the permit. Tsunade understood, as always.

As blasphemous as it may sound at times you love her more than you love your mother.

"That kid is holding up quite well, remarkable even for an Uchiha," she observed upon initial arrival.

"He is the brother of genius Itachi, do you expect any less?" Jiraiya retorted, a rhetorical question, since they all knew they should not.

You deduced from the few chilling words spurted from Orochimaru's angry lips that earlier in the day he attempted to over take the Uchiha heir. His frustrated eyes told you he was unprepared for failure. Absolutely pitiful. _Orochimaru is an old fool,_ Tsunade said to you once during one of her reminiscing moments. You could not agree with her more. Did he expect Sasuke to give up his body quietly? Or did he fail to see how much his pupil had matured in power?

Either assertion would prove him to be extremely silly.

A silent agreement passed between Tsunade and Jiraiya, they were going in. Neither could risk Orochimaru gaining the Sharingan, and neither could allow the fight to continue uninterrupted. You watched as the two legendaries prepared for battle, at first distantly because you fully expected their decision, then you watched with apprehension as heavy as lead.

Intuition is a funny thing.

For the first time since the beginning of the mission you felt uneasy. You felt fear. Before you could stop yourself, you grabbed her hand. "Tsunade-sama, don't go," you begged, _"Something is not right."_

"What is not right?" she asked, startled by your remark. You could not answer her, when you tried to repeat your plead it came out as a stifled sob. Instantly, she turned to you. "Sakura –" she stopped when she noticed the tears in your eyes.

Powerless. You felt powerless as she looked at you with her intense and melancholic eyes. "I have to go," she muttered and pulled you into a comforting hug, "Orochimaru cannot get the Sharingans."

"Let me go with you then, I can take care of healing for both of you," you suggested, although you knew that was impossible.

"You have more important things to worry about." She did not specified what but you knew she was talking about Naruto and Sasuke. "Remember the reason you came." Naruto and Jiraiya were standing behind you, but you could hardly feel their presence. "Live Sakura," Tsunade chocked. Suddenly, you realized she was crying like you.

Did she feel it too? That inexplicable sense of dread?

"Don't let history repeat itself. Don't worry about me." She pulled away abruptly. Whipping her tears away, she nodded at Jiraiya and was gone.

It would be moments after she left, when you realized you had no idea what she meant by history repeating itself. What history were you supposed to prevent? Was she talking about Sasuke's departure? The break up of Team 7 three years ago? Or was she talking about her own team? The death of the friendship once shared among the three Legendaries? Or…

Once, you walked passed the hero's memorial in the morning and you over heard Kakashi speaking to his dead friend. _Obito_, he said, _if I died instead of you, would things turn out better?_

Surely Tsunade knew about Kakashi's team. Was she telling you to stay alive and keep the others alive as well? Was that what she meant?

And a better question yet: why did she speak like she would never see you again?

You wanted to leap after her, but Naruto stopped you. His solemn eyes calmed your turbulent emotion. Your shoulders sagged, the invisible wall that had collapsed moments before quickly rebuilt itself. Anxiety left you. With Naruto's soothing hand on your shoulder, you watched the three Legendaries, disillusioned and frigid, exchange greetings. All three saw the full irony of their reunion.

Somehow, Jiraiya forced distance between Orochimaru and Sasuke. You could not clearly remember how, but you knew it was done. When the three summoned they were in the vast forest ahead, away from you. Away-

"Sakura," it was barely audible, almost a whisper, but you heard it. You turn your full attention back to the present.

Did your senses snapped from the tension? Did he really speak to you? You do not dare to hope.

But his voice pierces through the silence again. "Leave. I will not pursue." No mocking smirk, no arrogant tone, no deadly glare. Instead, there is a sort of gentleness in his voice that you cannot comprehend.

You stare at him, flabbergast. His Sharingans stares back, unreadable. You notice that he has undone the snake seal, and that his hands has fallen casually to his sides. He is determined not to attack, you realize. Is that an act of compassion? But no, that can never be, he is Sasuke Uchiha and –

He is…

You are…

Why? Yes, the question of all questions: _Why?_

"You may die," he answers your unspoken question.

What is it to him if you die by his hands? Will that not just mean one less pestering girl chasing after him? Why are his actions always so contradicting? Why is he always the one to put you in complete confusion? You can feel your calm exterior breaking, but somehow you hold your battle trance, somehow you still manage to make a last retort, "Not if my next attack hit."

"Is that right?" He gives you a long look, his eyes grow soft. The amused smirk returns to his face. "You are…"

He turns away. "Annoying."

You watch his back. It is the same back you saw three years ago.

There it is, that omniscient number: _Three_.

Oh what a magical number it is! Everything comes in threes. Three years since he left for Orochimaru. Three years since Naruto's journey with Jiraiya. Three years since your training with Tsunade. Three Legendaries: Orochimaru, Jiraiya, Tsunade. Three summons: snake, toad, slug. Three men team: Sasuke, Naruto, you. Three times Sasuke said his three words: _you are annoying_. Too many times, you said your three words: _I love you_.

Tears roll uncontrollably down your cheeks. You start laughing.

Tsunade was right. You _really_ are bad at controlling your emotion.

"Don't leave!" you bellow. The familiarity of the situation makes your mind spin. Fate is definitely mocking you in her cruel and ironic way. You look at your hands and the chakra glowing between them. You will not let history repeat itself, this time you will be less pitiful than to threaten him with a scream. This time… "If you go, I will _kill_ you."

His steps never falter. You know he heard you, you know he is only ignoring you the way he often does when you speak.

"I. Said. Don't. Go!" Your legs move without your command. Your frustration is overtaking you. How immature! How silly! How rash! But how unstoppable. Tears still rushing out of your eyes, you find yourself charging toward him with the killing chakra in hand at a speed you do not know you are capable of going. Closer, closer, closer –

His Sharingans spin, he moves just enough to avoid contact and catches your wrist. Suddenly, motion cease. You stand still and he stands still. Your tears stop, and the chakra in your hand fades into nothingness. His hand is cold, with his fingers enclose tightly around your wrist, you finally comprehend the extreme paleness of his skin, the product of three years living underground.

Silence, except for the pouring rain.

Silence, except for heavy breaths that escape your lips.

Then, a question. "Why are you so persistent?"

What answer can you possibly give to such a good question? You close your eyes.

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Part One Ends.

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	2. Part Two

Another note for confused souls -This chapter and the next four will be in third person.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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**You Used to Watch His Back**

Part Two

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"And Sasuke?" 

"Yeah…"

When she saw Sasuke leave, a part of her thought he would never return. Yet, when Naruto made his comforting promise, she could not help but believe in him. He was very convincing when he wanted to be. But more importantly, she wanted to believe in it, she needed to believe in it. It was the only hope she could hold on to, a little island in the middle of a tempestuous sea.

"He got away."

The bubble that kept her afloat in the last few days popped. She felt… What did she feel?

She did not know. Millions of thoughts flew passed her brain, but never pausing, never giving her time to comprehend, to analyze. She bit her lips hard, it was something she does when ever she could not think. The acute pain forced her thoughts to slow. The fog in her mind slowly cleared, and the words finally sank in.

He was _really_ gone, perhaps _forever_. A person she held dear to had betrayed her and drifted out of her life. A little menacing voice at the back of her mind added, _and you could do nothing to stop it._

Her hand fell off the door knob, the realization was too numbing. Her eyes stayed surprisingly dry as she stood immovable from the door, head down toward the floor. A lone word came into her mind: Paralysis. It overcame her like the ocean, suffocating.

"What's wrong?" a gentle voice rang through the air.

She took in a startled breath and looked up. Standing a few feet away from her was the Hokage. "You are..." Sakura was prepared to reintroduce herself, but before she did the Fifth said her name. "Haruno Sakura, right?"

She nodded stiffly. Uncertain of how to react, she began rationalizing why the Hokage remembered her name after only seeing her once. Certainly, the Hokage did not remember her because she was special. Perhaps, the woman was just naturally good with names, many people are. Or perhaps, the Fifth remembered her because she was the teammate of Sasuke and Naruto.

She thought the latter was more probable.

"News surely traveled fast." The Hokage muttered, giving her a sympathetic smile before walking up to the door to do what Sakura could not. The Fifth opened the door.

She knew Naruto was injured, but for some reasons she still expected to see him as cheerful as he looked when he left. She expected to find him jumping around the room with a silly grin on his face. She expected him to be eating ramen. She expected him to be laughing and telling his dumb jokes. Anything… Just not the way she found him – sitting so quietly on the sick bed, wrapped in rolls of bandages and watching her with those melancholic eyes.

She never saw him more injured in the full length of her acquaintance with him. Somehow he always managed to recover at an inhuman speed. Usually, by the time he reached the hospital, his wounds would have closed well enough to not need bandaging. Yet, there he sat, wrapped like a mummy.

She looked away. She could not stand to see him like that.

"I heard you were seriously injured, but you look fine now," the Hokage commented after a moment.

She cringed at those words because she was fully aware of their implications. If Naruto was considered fine in his state, other members of the team must have fared injuries far worst.

_For the village._

_For Sasuke. _

"I am sorry… Sakura-chan…" Naruto muttered in a voice too soft for him. He looked at his hands.

_For her. _

Pain came in an all consuming wave.

She would like to think the pain was all caused by guilt, that was how she ought to feel, but she knew that was not it. She had other thoughts, darker ones, directed toward everyone, even the most worthy. She could not stop her own thoughts.

She could not help but despised Naruto for making his promise. It would have been better if he left her hopeless, she could not be disappointed over general hopelessness.

She felt contempt toward Shikamaru and his scornful gaze, for his silence. Shikamaru was judging her, he was thinking how she was being unfair, and if it was not for the fact that speaking was too troublesome he would have criticized her. He thought he understood everything. But what would he knows? What would a person who cared about nothing knows? What would a person who is so scared of responsibility knows?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

She could also feel the Hokage's eyes, not critical but intense nevertheless. She felt angry at her because she was the one who gave the mission to everyone. She was the one to put Naruto in danger. She should have known better. If a stronger team was assigned to go with Naruto, the mission would have been indefinitely more successful, Naruto would not be hurt. And Sasuke

Sasuke would be dragged back to the village…

And leave again when he is better.

_No one_ could have stopped Sasuke from leaving.

Her anger dispelled, replaced by self disgust and self reproach.

She knew, didn't she?

She knew from the beginning nothing could have changed Sasuke's mind. She knew bringing him back was a hopeless cause. She knew but still she begged Naruto to find him. _She_ was the one to send Naruto into danger…

"Why are you apologizing?" she asked rather bluntly before she could stop herself. Naruto instantly turned his guilty gaze back to her, its weight tripled in its absence. She regretted her question. Why did she ask when she knew the answer?

A notion suddenly dawned on her.

She must stop letting her anguish leak onto her face because in his state Naruto was sure to misinterpret her expressions. The angrier she looked, the guiltier he would feel. For Naruto, she must act genuinely happy, or if she could not do that, at least act unaffected.

She forced a big smile on her face. She decided to act ignorant because she found that was the easiest form of unaffectedness she could fake. She decided to act like she never heard what he had said. His eyes were pleading her to look up, but instead of meeting them she avoided them by walking towards the window.

"You look so weird," she said and laughed, "You look just like a mummy, you know?"

"I am sorry… I…"

She ignored his words. "Listen, the weather is very good today. I am opening the curtains," she said as she pulled apart the gauzy white cloths. It was a way to distract herself. She wanted to be occupied. She did not want to think about what had happened.

Outside, the sun shined, and a few young children were playing a game of tag. A boy tagged a girl and sped away. To them, it was only an ordinary day. She wanted to be them.

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto cried, his voice slightly frantic. "I will definitely keep my promise!"

Downstairs the girl finally chose a target, a young boy with dark hair. She ran recklessly toward him, but each time she got close, he would make a sharp turn, loosing her from his path. Each turn tripled the distance that was originally between them, each turn tripled the time it took for the girl to catch up.

"Like I said… It is a lifelong promise!"

Her lips curled into a sardonic grin. "It's alright..." she muttered, never taking her eyes off the pitiful girl who did not know when to stop, "Naruto."

"Sakura!" Behind her, Shikamaru called. He sounded upset, probably because he could no longer stand how peevish she was acting, like an ill tempered _child_. "Sakura, he is trying to -"

But before he could finish, Naruto cut him off. "Like I said…" It was something in his voice - intense determination - that caught her off guard. Her head turn slowly, the first time since she went to the window. He was grinning the same reassuring wide grin she sometime sees on his face.

"I am not going to go back on my words because that is my ninja way," he assured, like something preposterously obvious.

And perhaps it was.

She used to watch their backs, the blue fabric on her right and the orange fabric on her left. With their heads held high, their backs straight, they walked with an air of certainty. They knew their final destination, a far away place, but a place they could envision so vividly that they could afford to be confident. Every action they took was a step toward his brother's throat for one and a step toward the Hokage's hat for the other.

But she, although she was a part of their team, she never had the concrete future. She never knew where she was going, or even what she would like to be.

Never. Instead, uncertainty mocked her.

Perhaps it was part of not being a genius like them. Yes, _them_, not only Sasuke, but also Naruto. At first Naruto seemed to be a perfect example of a dictionary defined idiot. He could never answer a question in a test correctly. He could never talk intelligently. He could never do any jutsu at first try. But having to know him better, she knew in truth he was a late bloomer who matches Sasuke in potential and talent. A step for them is a thousand steps for her. As they moved forward, she was left behind.

Below, the girl chased. Below the boy ran away.

A step for _him_ is a thousand steps for _her_.

The girl would catch up and the boy would evade.

As _he_ moved forward, _she_ was left behind.

And each turn the boy took tripled the distance between the two children. Each turn tripled the time the girl needed to catch up.

She remembered how she used to watch _his_ back.

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Part Two Ends

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	3. Part Three

The first part of this chapter may seem out of place, but it is there for a purpose, trust me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

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**You Used to Watch His Back**

Part 3

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Her parents gave up a lot for her, she knew. 

She had spent the first four years of her life in a remote village about fifteen miles from Konoha. It was a peaceful and simple place full of sunshine. She could vaguely remember the small stream near her old home, the sun flower field in the front yard and the gentle smile on a neighboring old lady's face. Time has diluted her memories, she could not remember much, but what she could remember always makes her smile.

Her father and her mother were both farmers. Yes, _not_ former ANBUs, _not_ Jounins, _not_ Chuunins, instead they were your normal farmers who grew food so the ninja community would have rice and noodles to fill their always empty stomachs. Her mother was the most beautiful woman in their district, the youngest daughter of a poor farmer. Her father was one of her many suitors, the son of a land owning middle class farmer. Neither of them came from a prestige family, in fact, in a land where ninjas took all eye catching jobs, they were two forgotten nobodies.

_Important forgotten nobodies_, her mother once argued, _the complex mechanism of Fire could not function without farmers._ Her parents were content with their lives in the small village.

Once, when she was five, she asked her mother why they moved to Konoha. Her mother replied with a horrible laugh.

She never asked the question again.

The truth would dawn on her, as truth often does, years later. She had always been slow in uptake. For her, truths, like Naruto's kindness, her uselessness, and of course _his_ dark past, never come naturally. For her, truths only come with drastic and often painful changes.

_Love_ – That was the reasons why they moved to the capital of Fire, the capital of opportunities. They wanted to give their only daughter every choices unavailable to a girl growing up in a farming village.

_Esteem_ – That was what they sacrificed. In the city where every prestigious family lived, and where fighting skill equaled respect, her parents were two unimportant people unknown to anyone who matters, unworthy of respect.

They put all their hopes in the one they made the sacrifices for. Their only daughter, her accomplishments, her achievements, they hoped would completely justify the cost. It was quite logical then, why her parents insisted on her enrollmentin the ninja academy against her initial desires.

The academy, after all, is the first step to success.

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Fall approached along with the beginning of a school year. Two months into the move she set foot in the academy for the first time. For understandable reasons she found the school rather intimidating. The general excitement around her made her feel dizzy and the sea of unfamiliar faces did nothing but encourage nervousness. The fact she had never been enrolled in a school before did not help the matter. She held on to her father's pants as one would hold on to a life saver with her right hand while hugging a large mom-made stuffed bunny with her left arm. 

And like all nervous children…

"I need to go to the washroom."

Her father, in the process of finishing the final paper work for his daughter's admission did not look away from the papers but nodded distractedly.

"Daddy... I need to go…"

"Go to the washroom then, they should be on your left," he replied, his voice was not unkind but traces of irritation were unmistakable. "You have to learn to go to washroom by yourself, if you want to be a ninja."

"But I am scared…" she protested. Truth to be told, she never wanted to be a ninja. It was more her parents' wish, not her own. Until very recently she did not even know what a ninja is. "And I don't want to be a…" She was about to say ninja, but her father's dark eyes silenced her.

"You know how to read the signs," he replied sternly. There were no room for arguement. He pried her tiny hand off his pants and urged her away.

"O-Okay.." she muttered with her head down and arms wrapped ever so tightly around her stuffed rabbit. Slowly she moved away from her father to her left into unknown surrounding.

Walking, walking, she passed through the busy crowd silently. Everyone seemed to be interacting with each other, all of themwere in their little cliques, chatting quietly, laughing together. Children her age ran passed her periodically in their game of tag. No one looked at her and she did not look at them. It was like an invisible wall had erected around her, it was like she was in her own little world, slightly apart from everyone else. It was like…

Boom.

She cried in fright when someone collided into her as she turned the corner. She fell backwards, and closed her eyes to brace for the sharp pain that a sharp fall on a hard concrete floor would inevitably cause. There was a flash she could hardly registered, then she was on the floor.

She blinked. She fell, yes. The fall hurt, yes. But the fall defiantly did not hurt as much as it should nor did she fall onto the concrete floor, she stared at her empty hands. Where is…?

She felt a fluffy lump on her back and clumsily pulled it free from her body, it was her stuffed bunny slightly less white than it was before. She eyed the toy, complete with a vague foot print on its head, in utter confusion. What had just happened?

Then, she noticed a small boy, her own age, looking at herwith a mix of concern and curiosity. "Are you okay?" He must have been the one she had bumped into in her thoughtlessness.

She jumped onto her feet and bowed apologetically. "I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry."

A puzzled smirk, "Why are you apologizing?"

She slowly straightened up and looked carefully at the boy. Black haired, black eyes, blue shirt, white pants, the boy gazed back steadily, demanding a reply. A part of her found him intimidating and urged her to run away in fear. A part of her found him intriguing and urged her to study his face in fascination. In the end, a third side – shyness, triumphed above the two. With coloured cheeks she turned away. "I…" In her distress she attempted to dust off the darkened spot on her bunny's head.

"Whatever." He said with a careless shrug. A pause, then he added, "Sorry," he motioned at the bunny, "I couldn't think of any other ways."

Her green eyes widened slightly in realization. "You…" She frowned.

"Kicked it," the boy completed the sentence. Slightly abashed, he went on to explain, "To break your fall."

"Oh…" she muttered, looking at her rabbit. Finally mustering her all her courage she managed to look back into the eyes of the boy. Giving a small smile she thanked him shyly.

The boy shrugged again, his steady gaze dared her to look away. She dared not.

Silence.

They said eyes are the doors into a person's soul. She thought his eyes looked sad. She wondered why.

Suddenly, an electronic ding followed by an announcer speaking through the speaker broke the silence, "Attention. The entrance ceremony will begin in ten minutes, All participants please proceed to the front field…"

The magic was gone. They both turned away.

"I…" she thought it was only polite if she introduce herself, but stopped herself. He was probably not interested in her name. After all, he probably thought she was pretty stupid after seeshe falled so clumsily and stuttered about so ungracefully. Instead, "Where is the washroom?"

He pointed at a big sign behind him, incredulous.

She blushed at the obvious answer. "Thank you."

The boy shrugged. "Whatever." Without another word the boy walked forward and past her.

"Bye," she said. For a moment she thought he would ignore her, but he did not. Instead, he stopped abruptly a few steps away from her. "See you around."

Taken aback, she looked back just quickly enough to catch a glimpse of a fleeting smile - a genuine smile - on his face, partially turned.Pleasantly surprise, her lips too curved into a smile. She thought he should smile more, he looked better when he smiles. "See you around," she echoed.

They parted.

She reflected as she made her way out of the washroom that the boy was nice and kind in his own small ways. She thought he would make a good friend but she dismissed the thought with a shake of her head. She was not good enough to be his friend, the logical side of mind told her, in any case, the boy must have found her annoying.

* * *

She would learn his name later that day in the entrance ceremony. 

She remembered, beside her stood two women in their mid-thirties gossiping. As the names of the newly enrolled children were called out, the two women commented on each child in loud whispers, thinking no one could hear them in the rounds of enthusiastic claps. In reality, anyone who wished to listen could have easily heard their rash, and at times offensive, conversation. Lucky for them, most people were too caught up by the excitement to heed them any attention.

Being too short to see the action on the elevated platform at the front, and being rather curious about her future classmates, she listened in.

She learned of Ino Yamanaka first, she was the only child of a flower shop owner, the eldest son of the late T--- Yamanaka whom excels in mind control. "Others always say she is adorable, but I have never liked her much, there is something in her eyes. This one will be a hand full when she grows up," the woman on the left said. "She smiles too much," the other woman dryly commented.

She also learned of Hinata Hyuuga, she was the second to go up, the heiress of the all the powerful Hyuuga clan. "I heard her father was quite disappointed in her progress." This time it was the woman at the right. "To be sure, she is much too gentle to be a good fighter."

The calling of a name, all round clapping, a short pause as the named child walk off the stage after hand shaking with the principle. The cycle continued with little variation again and again. Shino Aburame, Shikamaru Nara, Kiba Inuzuka, Chouji Akimichi… The names and the women's voices merged into one big pool of confusing information she could not distinct from one another. As the list of names grew, she began to lose track.

But his name, although she did not know that was his name, his name caught her attention.

Perhaps it was the way the announcer said his name.

"Sasuke Uchiha," he said in distinct reverence, with emphasis on his family name.

Perhaps it was the people's reactions toward his name.

Awed silence replaced the accustomed clapping as the young boy slowly proceeded to the stage.

Perhaps it was what the gossipers said when they heard his name.

"The younger brother of young Itachi Uchiha," the woman on the right whispered, this time she truly whispered, "_the_ Itachi Uchiha."

"They said he is talented," the other woman whispered back, "Can he be as talented as his brother?"

She remembered how she felt the urge to see who Sasuke Uchiha was, she remembered how she jumped up and down frantically trying to take in a glimpse of the name's owner without success.

"Stop Sakura," her father commanded softly without looking at her. She saw a strange longing in her father's eyes, a mix of envy and hope. She ignored her father and continued jumping. "I can't see. I can't see," she complained, the man in front of her was simply too tall.

It was then when her father lifted her up above his shoulders to stop her irritating jumping. In a magical moment when she towered over the crowd she saw him: black haired, dark pants, dark shirt with a red and white fan.

He was the same boy whom she had collided into earlier. He was Sasuke Uchiha.

For the first time she watched his back.

* * *

Part 3 Ends

* * *

Review is good for the soul. 


	4. Part Four

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

* * *

**You Used To Watch His Back**

Part Four

* * *

It would be a years and a half before he would make an impact on her for the second time. She saw him at school, but they never truly crossed path. With him being a quiet boy and with her being too shy to initiate any talks, as unbelievable as it may sound, although she was in his class, she never talked to him.

Until…

It was report card day.

"Why can't you be like the Yamanaka's daughter?" her mother asked when she saw her report card.

Ino Yamanaka placed second after Sasuke Uchiha, Sakura wondered how her mother knew, but thought it was too trivial a question to ask. That was not important, after all. What was important was that she, Sakura Haruno, placed fifteenth in her class of thirty, not bad, but definitely not good either. She took another glance at her report card.

She got excellent marks for her written tests, as good as, or at times, even better than Ino's. What pulled her average down were her horrible skill testing marks. She could not throw shuriken straight even if her life depended on it. Sadly, even the class clown Naruto could. The only practical ninja skill she perfected was the bunshin technique, something that came to her naturally, somethingmost of her classmateshave trouble with. But what was the use of perfecting bunshin technique when she would not be tested onit until three years later?

"I don't know, mother."

"I do not have much hope in you, Sakura, but at least become a Chunnin," her mother exclaimed upset and frustrated, "But at this rate, you can't even graduate from the academy,"

Heartily ashamed, Sakura recoiled and looked down at the floor. Her mother had said similar words every report card time, but those words still stung. Very badly. "I will…" she muttered, "Try harder next time."

"Will you?" her mother asked, messaging her temples gingerly with her hands.

"I will go practice now," Sakura timidly announced. Her mother stayed silent and turned back toward her kitchen.

Knowing her mother would likely ignore her until dinner time comes the way she often does after such a lecture, Sakura grabbed her weapon bag and set off to training grounds. In any case, it would be best if she is not home when her father returns from work, she would hate being the one to show him her report card.

She sighed.

Father would not be happy.

* * *

Arriving at a small clearing with three wooden logs, she pulled out a shuriken from her pack and threw it at the middle log. It missed, two feet too high. Undaunted she pulled out another shuriken and tried again, this time it was five feet right of the log. She kept trying, each time the shuriken missed its destination. When she ran out of shuriken she collected each one and tried again.

She was down to her last shuriken of her third round when she finally stopped. As much as she would hate to admit, she was getting angry at her inability. She glared hatefully at the shuriken in her hand. Why would it not fly where it is suppose to?

She threw her final shuriken.

It flew past the log and…

An angry voice thundered through the still air. "Watch where you throw!"

Oops.

From behind the bush that obstructed her view of the dirt path she had traveled on an hour ago, a fuming boy appeared. He was displease, no, scratch that, he was furious. Yes, furious. He was holding a shuriken, probably the same shuriken she threw moments before, rather threateningly. "Were you trying to kill me?"

She ran behind the closest log for cover. "I am sorry I didn't mean to hit you I just can't throw please forgive me and don't kill me I promise just don't kill me I will do anything you want I am sorry I really didn't mean it I will even eat dirt if you will forgive me and don't kill me I am sorry." Fear always make her babble unintelligently, and she was very scared at that moment.

Silence.

The boy laughed.

It was hard to find a person laughing completely threatening. Cautiously, she allowed herself to steal a peek at the boy from behind her log. She took a closer look at his face. Her eyes widened. Black hair, dark eyes, blue shirt, white shorts. She instantly recognized the boy as her classmate Sasuke Uchiha.

The female population of her class giggled when ever Sasuke walked down the aisle, they all liked him, she knew. When ever there were group projects, they would fight to be his partner. He always rejects their offers rather rudely, but oddly enough the girls only loved him more for that.

"You are so funny," he commented, trying hard to stifle his laughter.

She scowled. "Am not!" she cried indignantly. Forgetting all her former fear, she jumped out from behind the log ungracefully tripping over a loose rock in the process.

Sasuke laughed again.

Sakura glowered at him, her face burning half from embarrassment and half from anger. There were no scrapes but still, falling hurts and there he was laughing. She muttered scornfully just loud enough for him to hear, "I am glad you are fine."

He gave a genuine grin. She wondered if he heard her dripping sarcasm. "What were you doing?"

"Practicing," she replied curtly and frowned, still infuriated by his laughter.

"Practicing killing people?"

The old frustration momentarily replaced her anger at the boy. She pouted and pointed almost accusingly at the log to her left. "No, I was practicing throwing shuriken at that log."

Sasuke looked at the said log, then at the path he was walking on, then back at the log. He raised an eyebrow. "No wonder you were dead last in skill testing." He threw the shuriken in his hand at the log. It hit. Dead center.

He smirked. "You suck."

She wanted to punch him.

She might have followed through her thoughts. It was doubtful her punch would do more damage to the attacked than the attacker but angry people were seldom logical. As it happened, before she could take such potentially self damaging action, he had pulled the embedded shuriken out of the wood and handed it back to the owner.

"You try."

She blinked and awkwardly accepted the shuriken. So she tried. So she missed.

"You are holding it all wrong," he criticized. He pulled out a shuriken from his own bag and demonstrated the proper grip. "Finger here and finger there," he explained, flipping his hand around a few times so she could see his finger position properly. Then he flung the weapon at the log again. It hit again.

"It is easy," he went on, pride radiating out his dark eyes. "My brother taught me how to throw a shuriken when I was four."

"I don't have a brother." Sasuke Uchiha was gloating and that was annoying her. What did those girls in her class see in him anyway?

He gave an impatient wave. "Your father then." He shrugged. "Kiba's father taught him."

She was too proud to admit her father's incompetence in the ninja arts. "My father is _too busy_," she snapped instead with bitterness that surprised even herself. She thought she might have seen a flash of empathy passed through his eyes. Might have. Perhaps. Possibly. She was not sure.

Silently, he offered her a shuriken from his pack.

Silence speaks better than words. That is the way it has always been between you and he. If you speak, you would be ignored; if he speaks, he would be unforgiving.

Silently, she accepted.

Taking the shuriken, she placed her fingers the way he said she should. Finger here, and finger there. Then she looked at the log with the two embedded shurikens. She narrowed her eyes.

She threw.

She hit, the edge of the log, but she hit.

"I did it!" she cried victoriously. She threw her arms up and danced around the boy. "I did it! I did it! I did it!"

Sasuke gave a cool nod and crossed his arms. "Yeah you did." He rolled his exasperated eyes. Pulling out five fresh shurikens from his pouch he asked quietly, "What are you so happy about?"

She stopped and turned to him with wide eyes. "I just learned how to throw --"

"You are stupid."

"What?"

"If you cerebrate just because you manage to throw one dumb shuriken. You will never get anywhere." He threw all five shurikens toward the log simultaneously. They all hit the dead center. She froze.

"_You are stupid," her father said refusing to look at her. "How can my daughter have problems with something so simple?"_

Sakura stared at the log with wide eyes.

"_I don't expect a lot from you. But at this rate you can't even become a Chuunin!" her mother said covering her face with her hand._

"You are so weak." Deadpan and merciless. Yes, completely merciless.

"_Fifteenth? Mediocrity is simply not enough in this world. Only the best survives." Her father was walking away, trying to hide his face from her but she saw those tears anyway. They were no tears of rage, no, no, those were tears of disappointment. _

Looking at the floor she muttered under her breath, "I will be better than you one day."

"Not in a million year," he mused aloud as he made his way to the log and pulled the embedded shurikens out one by one.

The red and white circular fan on his back seemed to be an open challenge. A sardonic grin dawned on her face.

For the second time she watched his back.

* * *

Sasuke Uchiha was admitted to a hospital that day with a shuriken embedded deeply into his back. Many suspected foul play. Yet, when asked how the shuriken ended up in his body the boy maintained the weapon was embedded in the log that he had accidentally fell onto. Sakura Haruno, the one who called for help in hysteric tears, was obviously traumatized by the event. Many thought she witness what happened but no one could get a word out of her mouth, her lips were sealed.

She would miss school for three weeks. In the first week she locked herself in her room, she lived on rice ball, but vomited most of what she ate. In the second week she fainted in her room and was diagnosed with a high fever. In the third week she was admitted to the hospital. On the last day of the third week a card was sent to her signed by her classmates and teachers in the academy.

Her father, the one whom presented the card to Sakura, noted his daughter's peculiar transfixion on one unsigned message written in small neat prints. Curiously, it read: _I __don't forgive the dead_. _Stop being stupid. _

She made a miraculous recovery two days later.

Returning to school on the forth week after the incident, the teachers noticed Sakura became quieter than before. The school bullies soon took advantage of her submissiveness and in the year that followed the girl became the centre of playground teasing, particularly concerning her forehead.

Years later, after her daughter had become a special Jounin as well as the favourite apprentice of the Hokage - an honour beyond Sakura's mother wildest dream, she shared with a worried neighbour whom daughter was suffering from reoccurring nightmares an interesting fact. Apparently, throughout the years following the incident, young Sakura often muttered 'sorry' in her troubled dreams.

* * *

Part Four Ends.

* * *

I took a lot of liberty with their past, I know. Review if you take pity on the author's sanity.


	5. Part Five

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

* * *

**You Used To Watch His Back**

Part Five

* * *

It all began on a hot humid morning, one of those uncomfortable days when everything appears annoying. Her bangs, damped by the weather, clungirritatingly toher forehead like half chewed gum that stick to the back of the teeth. A solution came to her after some thoughts as she got ready for a headband she forced her bangs to separate from her forehead. The method worked well, and within minutes she was off to the academyin relative comfort.

But while shefound her solution to relative comfort, one could not assume that other poor soulsfound their solution. As it was, the upper classman whom happened to arrive at the academy gate behind her was one of those that had not, and thus was fuming in foul mood.

This was perhaps her first misfortune.

Impatient and highly irritated, the senior academy student snarled, "Hey move it, you girl with a big forehead."

He was not an ill natured boy, but the bell was about to ring in any minute, the weather was insufferably hot, and she was in his way at the door. He did not mean his words either. Her forehead was actually no bigger than any other kids her age, but her forehead was the first thing he saw, and so also the first thing off his tongue. In any case, if heknewwhat damage his wordscaused the girl, he would neversay them regardless of his agitation.

It was not his fault, Sakura knew. If she must blame something she could only blame her extremely bad luck.

The class bully was a rather large boy with a square chin and dim wit. On average, in a month, he would skip the first block a quarter of the time, be late for around thirty minutes for another quarter of the time, fifteen minutes late for yet another quarter, five minutes late for four days, and be on time on one day. Probability was definitely in her favour, but alas fate was not. Of all the people who could have beennear enough to hear the rough comment, it had to be him. The thick jawed classmate found the comment funny and he remembered it, although he could not remember a single ninja technique even if failure meant a thousand detentions for him.

What happened next was not something particularly hard to deduce. The following day, the bully decided to try out a new nick-name inspired by the comment he found so amusing the morning before. Lunch had just begun that day. Sakura was walking out to the yard when he approached her with a flash of evil genius.

"How is your day Forehead Girl?" he asked after he accidentally bumped into her and then equally accidentally knocked the text books out of her hands.

A few of the boys in the class witnessed the incident and thought the name was funny. The week after the initial incident, they also began to call her by the nick-name, but with a small alteration.

She was attentively reading a book on some steps near a grass field. They were playing soccer. One of them miscalculated the direction of their kick and the soccer ball half bounced and half rolled to her. "Hey Forehead Bookworm, pass the ball back," they demanded, pointing at the soccer ball near her.

In the matter of three months it seemed everyone had joined in the name calling. But that was not what made the nick name unbearable. That was a part of it, for sure, but mostly it was the progressive viciousness of the teasing. Although always containing the word 'forehead' as a prefix, the suffix changed with differing mouths.

The teasing would drift across the yard to her ears unprovoked and uncalled for. They were unavoidable, like unpleasant smells that waft to one's nose. _"Look, it's Forehead_ _girl!"_ A few weeks later, _"Hey Forehead loner, what do you think you are doing?"_ And then, _"Watch where you are going Forehead idiot."_ Then, _"God I can't stand that Forehead Pet, did you see how she sucked up to the teachers?"_ Finally a triumphant remark, _"Guess what? I saw Forehead Monster cry the other day!"_

In the beginning she was convinced her forehead was normal in size. When she looked into the mirror her forehead looked no bigger than Ino's forehead or Hinata's forehead. But as time passed, her confidence dwindled and she stopped being so sure.

Repetition was the key.

Water seeps into cracks on the ground, eventually there is a cave. Mocking comments seeped into her ears, slowly chipping away self confidence she had retained despite everything. She began to become self conscious.

Perhaps she did have an abnormally large forehead after all.

She was not so naïve that she could completely ignore the hostility that had slowly but surely seeped into the eyes of her peers. She could not believe that all the harsh words were simply harmless addresses, amusing jokes. If they did not want to play with her, she would not play with them. For the most part, she respected her classmates' wishes and did her best to be invisible. It suited her fine. She liked reading and reading was an individual activity. But human beings are social animals, and she being one could not escape the feeling of loneliness no matter how hard she may try to deny.

When the feeling became so great that she was desperate for any companionship, she would take a stroll in the park where most of her peers played after school. There she would be hit by fully expected but no less painful jeering comments. She would coolly walks past everyone to one of the swings, wordlessly settles herself on the dark plastic, and propels herself upward.

Immersed in the monotonous movement of the swing, back and forth, back and forth, most of the days she could almost convince herself she was a part of one of the close knitted cliques of friends, a girl with a normal sized forehead.

* * *

She first saw them when she entered the park: three girls, two swinging a long rope, and the last one skipping. From afar, she did not know they were singing.

But sing they did.

"_One two three four Forehead Monster touches the floor." _

Their synchronized voice slowly reached her ears, at first, soft and almost inaudible, later, conspicuous and painfully unmistakable. When she entered the proximity of the playground, their song was the only sound that reached her ears.

It was a sunny day, the playground was buzzing with activities.

"_Five six seven eight Forehead Monster meets her fate."_

It was a horrible song.

Some say bullying is a part of life, that it is a part of growing up.

"_Nine ten eleven twelve Forehead Monster is cut in halves."_

She looked at one of the singers and caught her eyes. The singer smirked and sang louder.

Because there is no limit to human atrocity, because there is no limit to what damage a human being, however young, can inflict on another.

"_One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight we are here to cerebrate! Nine ten eleven twelve for we have killed the foul fend. Thirteen fourteen fifteen…"_

She stopped listening.

Hiding her forehead with her bangs, grown long simply for that purpose, she slowly walked past the mocking crowd with her head down, a stiff smile plastered on her face. She acted as unaffected as she could. She did not cry. She wanted to cry but she held back her tears. She knew the consequence of crying – more severe taunting the next day. That was not a mistake she wished to remake. If she was to cry it would be at a place she knew no one would see her.

* * *

Next to the park was a bamboo forest, so small that she could now walk through it in fifteen minutes, but in a child's eyes everything seems much larger.

Two particular facts concerning bamboo trees contributed heavily on furthering her misfortune that day. The first is that bamboo trees all look exactly the same. Unless one learns the art of traveling by the position of the sun, a bamboo forest is an impossible labyrinth. If she had a clear mind she probably would not have ran so rashly into the forest next to the park, but she did not have a clear mind and that was exactly what she did. After more than thirty minutes of walking, her brain finally admitted defeat and announced to the rest of her body that she was completely lost.

The second fact was that bamboo trunks have extremely slippery outer layer. If one is careless around a fallen trunk one can easily trips.

She had always been a somewhat careless person, accident prone, as her mother said. In any case, with her luck, even if she was not by nature careless, she would still have tripped that day.

The result, needless to say, was rather undesirable. The sharp pains shot up from both of her legs when she tried to stand back up. She gave up standing at all after two tries, apprehending the fact that both of her ankles were twisted in the fall. She was having a very bad day. She was cold, lost and helplessly stuck in the middle of a bamboo forest. She did not cry, although the occasion called for a good cry. She was too emotionally drained, too desolated, too surrendered for tears. She could not cry.

"Hey this is my training spot!"

She looked up, startled. She quickly saw him standing not too far away from her. His eyes widened, however subtly, in recognition. Memories flashed instantly through her mind and a cloud of guilt instantly overshadowed her. She wanted to hide. Unconsciously, she tried to move back, but stopped when sharp pains shot up her legs.

"I-I am sorry…" she mumbled weakly, "I would leave but I…"

Still he watched her, silent and brooding, completely unreadable. She felt like a freak on display but she realized she could not complain. She was a monster, after all. What she did to him was barbarous, inexcusable, savage, evil.

What she did to him was unforgivable.

"Are you lost?"

It was a sudden comment, quiet but clear, curt but one that showed some care. She was so pleasantly surprised by the question that for a moment her guilt lifted enough for her to give a bitter smile.

"Are you hurt?"

Sakura remained wordless, her eyes that had stayed dry until then began to moist. Alone her sufferings were untouchable, but with a companion all emotion previously ignored were easily drawn out. It is meaningless to cry alone, but when someone who cares is there to hear you cry, tears become a powerful expression. Before she could stop herself, she was crying, and though she wanted to stop, tears continued to slide uncontrollably down her face.

"Don't look."

She hid her face with her hands, it was the best thing to do. If she could not stop her unbecoming tears, then at least she could spare another sight of her shameful state. For some time she cried, when at length her emotion calmed, she straightened up and began wiping away her tears with her sleeves.

She was surprised when she found him kneeling in front of her, a mix of concern and frustration in his eyes. He was perplexed, completely at lostwith the situation. "You want tissue?" Uncertainly, he offered the few pieces he had dug out from his pockets.

Why did he care? Why did he forgive her? Why, after all she had done to him, had he never scorned her, never tried to take revenge? Because he was nice, whispered her heart, because he was a kind person.

Silently she accepted his offering.

He gave a relieved sigh, andcarefully sat down next to her. "Why are you crying?"

She, unable to let go of hershame refused to look at him in the eyes, but she obediently replied. "They were-" she muttered between muffled sobs, "making fun of me."

He, growing up in a male dominated family did not know how to react, but nevertheless he tried his best to comfort, "About what?"

"My forehead."

"Ah," came the understanding answer. He paused awkwardly, then, "Can you walk?"

Those words he spoke were not normally considered as words of comfort, but that time, they seemed like music to her ears. She fancied, no, she knew, those words must mean more than their surface meanings. He was only shy, he must be.

She tried to move, but failed, and shook her head.

He frowned, his brows knitted in deep consideration. "Where do you live?"

"5th Avenue."

In his natural callous ways, he stood up and then kneeled down with his back in front of her, his intent obvious. "Come on."

"I am heavy."

"I am an Uchiha you know," he replied, as if being an Uchiha meant he could do anything in the world.

For the third time she watched his back.

She should have corrected him. She should have told him that a family name should simply mean you are a family, that he should not feel obligated to be a certain way just because of a last name, that he is not his brother or his father or anyone else with the same blood. After all, blood runs shallower than one may think. But she said nothing that day. Her mind was too full.

She allowed herself on his back. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder. She shyly buried her head in the soft blue fabrics on his back. Her lips curled into a soft smile.

"Thank you," she muttered in his shirt.

He scowled in annoyance. "I am doing this only because you are pitiful."

The small smile on her face did not falter. "I know... but thank you anyway."

He did not reply, but she thought she saw the slightly pink glow spread across his cheeks.

To think, the great Sasuke Uchiha, the one loved by all girls in her class, offered to give her a piggy back ride away from the forest. All she could think was how jealous those mean girls in her class would be. Not that she would tell anyone about this encounter, but they did not need to know, the mental image of their faces was good enough.

She felt, for the first time in years, alive.

* * *

Ino curiously introduced herself to Sakura the next day.

The action was suspicious but Sakura was too touched by the offer of friendship to wonder. In time the two girls grew from acquaintances to best friends. Yet, despite everything, the mystery remained as to why Ino walked up to Sakura that day. Perhaps she simply felt sorry for the girl suddenly. Perhaps she wanted another friend. Perhaps she had always planned to befriend Sakura but never had a chance till then. Or perhaps…

A passer-by saw Ino standing stealthily behind one of the ancient trees in the park watching intensely at a young boy carrying an injured girl.

There are many things in the world that is best left unknown. This is one of them.

* * *

One more chapter of Sakura angst to go - this time back to present. Review is more than welcome.


	6. Part Six

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

* * *

**You Used To Watch His Back**

Part Six

* * *

You open your eyes.

Memories still fresh in your mind you tell him the truth, "Because you saved me."

His eyes widen just a little. For a moment you see something dance behind his eyes. The moment passes and the eyes harden once again. "You are delusional."

You shake your head and smile, a little wistful, a little resign. "I cannot stop you now, but I will find you again, and I will keep finding you until you listen." His face is unreadable as he considers your words. Then, releasing your wrist he chuckles once. You are surprised but you have no time to wonder what that means.

"Good bye, Sakura," he says quietly, before and walks away.

The sense of déjà vu is strong as you watch his retreating back. It hurts to watch him go, to acknowledge you have failed yet again, even if it's inevitable.

"Next time I will save you," you promise.

* * *

In the rain, you think you hear him say, "I know."

* * *

**Fin**

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A/N: Perhaps this is not the most satisfying ending in the world, but it's an ending nevertheless. I started this story with a much more elaborate ending in mind, but many things have happened in Naruto since then. That is one of the reasons why I have not finished this story earlier, but today I had a sudden urge to wrap this up once and for all.

Thanks for all the support in the past. I love you all and I know it's early but Merry Christmas.


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